Jack's Story

by Jennifer Kellow, RN

Jack had no discernible reflexes. He did not blink when something
touched his eyes. His eyes did not move together, so it was hard to tell if he was seeing
anything. He did not suck or swallow. At times he choked on his own saliva. His jaw was
clenched shut, and his hands were fisted so tightly that his right arm was purple and
cold. His shoulder muscles were defined, and he held his shoulders close to his ears. His
torso, however, was quiet--almost limp. He looked like a boxer in the middle of a bad
round. He was also very tiny for a three-month old.

My supervisor at the nursing agency knew that I was a trained teacher
of the Alexander Technique as well as a Registered Nurse. She had requested that I work
with Jack to see if the Technique could help him. I became part of a team of nurses and
specialists in feeding, speech, and physical therapy.

Jack's medical work up had yielded no diagnosis whatsoever. There was
no evidence of structural damage to the brain or nervous system, nor sign of disease or
infection. Even his chromosomes were normal. The doctors had nothing to offer the parents.
With none of Jack's reflexes to give them a clue, they could not predict whether Jack was
of normal intelligence or profoundly retarded. They could not say whether he would ever
sit or hold his head up, speak or swallow food. Worst of all, there were no pills or
elixers they could prescribe that would produce a change in his condition.

The parents were determined to find some answers for Jack and were
willing to create them if necessary. They eagerly agreed to have me work with him. I
worked three eight-hour days a week with him. I directed my own use each time I touched
him while giving his nursing care, and I gave him two Alexander "lessons" each
day. His lessons consisted of fifteen to sixty minutes of my touching the areas where he
was tightly contracted and assisting him in letting his neck be free while I let my own
neck be free. I also taught the principles of the Alexander Technique to his parents.

Jack's initial response to the Alexander technique was deep and
immediate sleep. After fifteen minutes of work he would nap for three hours. His skin
would be warm and very pink, indicating good circulation of oxygen, though his heart rate
was often alarmingly high. I was afraid he would wake up exhausted from the work of his
heart, but instead he awoke alert and active. He began to move his eyes together and to
turn his head towards the sound of our voices.

Over the next few months Jack progressed from little to no movement or
facial expression to a sigh, then a yawn, then soft vocalizations. The more Alexander
lessons he had, the more his reflexes began to appear. The first time he showed a hint of
a smile, his mother and I both laughed and cried. There was someone in there, and he was
very much aware. As Jack lay on his back, his mother and I dangled toys over him for
hours--until he finally could follow them with his eyes, then his head, and then his whole
body until he rolled over. As soon as he was able to roll over to one side, he started to
roll clear across the room until we would find him under the coffee table lodged between
the couch and the table leg. His physical therapist was astonished. She also worked with
brain-injured children and felt Jack was more impaired than any of them. She did not
expect much from him and was amazed at the changes she was seeing.

Jack began to do well in all his therapies; but he still could not
swallow food or milk and had to be fed through a tube in his nose, and later directly into
his stomach. However, when Jack's mother learned to consciously free her neck--and by this
means remain calm even if Jack started choking--he began to eat tiny amounts of food
whenever she, herself, fed him. Although his progress was steady, it was also painstaking.
The ability to take the pacifier into his mouth, suck on it, and swallow his saliva
without choking took him seven months of work.

By the time Jack was a year old, he had transformed from a pale, thin,
severely handicapped infant into a pink, plump, active child. He could balance his head
when sitting, play with toys in both hands, and put things into his mouth. He could shake
his head "no" and smile for "yes" to indicate preferences. He rolled
over on either side and began creeping. In his walker, he pushed his feet against the
floor to stand. But if anyone picked him up while tightening their neck and pulling their
head back and down, he would yell until they released their neck. Then he would reward
them with a big smile.

Jack's parents were happy. Instead of a life of sadness with him, they
could now experience great delight in his reflexive and other developmental milestones.
The Alexander Technique allowed Jack to release the tiny tight grasp he had on life and to
fully engage in play with his people and environment.

About The Writer

Jennifer Kellow is a Registered Nurse and Alexander
Technique Teacher, living and teaching in New York City. She specializes in working with
premature babies and young children with severe problems.